Pain of the Innocent
by Deaths-Black-Rose
Summary: I was an innocent child put through hell. I lost almost all that innocence when I was seven. I made my way through the world. Is there any innocence left that could save my humanity or will I remain so cold-hearted and loveless? Chapter 3 up
1. Prologue

In the space of a moment I lost all hope I could have had for a good life. Dead was my mother, dead was my father. I knew nothing of the real world until I set foot in it. There are hardships in this world that no child should face, least of all an innocent. Of course, the innocent always seem to be the ones who have all the hard luck. A babe not older then two was abandoned on a doorstep for some old man's mad plan.

Now before I go any further I guess I must explain to you who I am exactly. My name is Harry Potter. Now many of you may certainly know who I am from stories your parents tell you, stories of how I am heroic and brave and other such crap. I am nothing like that. Over the years people have modified the story of my life to fit their wants and end up completely screwing up the story. But we will get to that later. For now, how about how all this started.

It was Halloween when Voldemort blew the door open and he proceeded into the house. My father was playing peek-a-boo with me while my mother read a book. They jumped up as dust blew into the room and covered the doorway. But they already knew who was there. They cleared the dust with a f lick of their wand and standing there was the person they hoped never to see. But they saw him.

My father told mum to take me upstairs and hide me. While we hid he fought the dark lord and like most, he lost. My mother started sobbing when she heard the body of her husband drop to the ground.

But through it all I didn't utter a sound. I looked on with wide eyes that seemed to understand it all so much. In truth I did understand what was going on. A quiet baby making no sound at his father's death and his mother's anguished sobs.

My mother ran upstairs with me in her arms. My black hair was damp with tears by the time we made it into the nursery. My mother had no time to hide me before Voldemort blasted that door open too. I was dropped carelessly into the crib she was leaning over.

Voldemort scowled at the carelessness in the way my mother handled me. He told her to move out of the way and that he only wanted me. Despite what everybody else said she moved out of the way quickly and sobbed at him not to hurt her. He looked at her in disgust before he killed her too.

You see, Voldemort didn't want to kill me. He aimed his wand at me, yes, but he didn't cast the _Avada Kedavra _curse. He marked me as his. The scar on my forehead didn't make the connection, just opened it when it was placed there. I held up my arms and giggled. I wanted him to pick me up which he gladly did. He smiled down at the giggling green-eyed baby in his arms.

He was about to take me to live with one of his followers when Dumbledore came in.

"Voldemort, give him here. You will not have him," Dumbledore had said.

Voldemort snarled back, "He is my mate and it is my right to him."

Dumbledore got angry. Tom wouldn't give me up. The old coot sent a curse flying towards him and before he could get out of the way Voldemort was hit. A silver light hit the Dark Lord square in the chest, just above where I was. Dumbledore used a summoning charm to bring me to him. Voldemort was soon a bodiless spirit and I was crying for the first time that night.

With an evil grin Dumbles took me to live with my relatives knowing they hated magic and would do anything to squash it out of me. Dumbledore knew this was impossible so figured this was a perfect way to manipulate me. He was trying to make me into the perfect weapon to get rid of Voldemort. I woke up from the magical sleep Dumbledore put on me by the shrill scream of my Aunt Petunia.

I had entered hell.

A/N: Another story! Hope ya'll like this chappie. I will be updating the rest but this plot just wouldn't leave me alone. Shoo plot bunny. Anyway I've got a question. Should this story revert to third person or stay first person? I don't like writing in first person but I will if ya'll want me to. Oh, and I'll only update if I get at least five reviews every chapter. Like it, love it, hate it? Plz review!


	2. Loss Of Innocence

Ever since I was little, just four years old, I was made to work. I did the chores and cooked the meals but got nothing in return. I was treated like a slave. They never appreciated what I did for them and said I should appreciate them for taking a freak like me into their home. I'd rather have been on the streets.

They potty trained me as soon as possible, which was merely two months after I arrived there, so they wouldn't have to deal with changing me. I already knew how to walk by then so it was not much of a problem.

And by the time I could look over the stove, I was about five, I was made to cook every meal and when I burned something I was beaten, which was often as I was never taught to cook and had to learn by mistake.

And when I was six I figured out there was something strange about me, something freakish. I figured my aunt and uncle must know about it and that must be the reason they hated him so much.

I could talk to snakes. I could move things just by wanting them to move. Often I found myself without food for days and even weeks. When I wanted food bad enough it just appeared there. It was as though it was magic, which it was but I didn't know that at the time.

I figured out I could talk to snakes when I was walking back to the Dursleys from the park. I heard a hissing voice but looking around I didn't see anyone. At first I thought I was going crazy but then a snake slithered onto my path and spoke again.

"Another human, the filthy creaturessss," the snake hissed to itself.

"D-did you jusssst ssspeak?" I asked the snake nervously, feeling very foolish at talking to the creature.

In surprise, the snake looked up. It surely would have narrowed it's eyes if it was possible for a snake.

"Of courssse I did human. Why would I not ssspeak?" the snake asked, obviously annoyed.

"Well, sssnakesss don't ssspeak. Everybody knowsss that," I told the snake.

"It isss very rare for a human to ssspeak the language of sssnakesss," the snake said cautiously.

I just walked away quickly. At first I believed I was going crazy but then I came up with another answer; I had another gift. I could talk to snakes and nobody else could. I could make things float and nobody else could. I was different, special. Of course I quickly dismissed the latter by telling myself that I wasn't special but that I was a freak.

But I knew I had to keep my gifts a secret from the Dursleys. Surely they would be mad that I was so… freakish. Sure I was beaten but that was only a few slaps every now and then; if they found out I would surely end up near death.

I looked and looked but could not find anything about my gifts in the library. The only things similar were in fairy tales but this was no fairy tale; this was real life, my life.

But through this searching I found out I enjoyed reading. In kindergarten I learned to read but most of those books were books for little kids and were uninteresting. I only read in private when at that house so the Dursleys wouldn't see me happy. Reading was how I kept my mind off everything they did to make me miserable.

All the while I practiced my gift and found I could do almost anything. There was so much to learn, I knew, but there was no one to teach me. I doubted there was anybody like me out there.

But at seven I snapped. I couldn't take it any longer. The beatings got worse and worse until I was nothing more then a broken and bleeding heap. It made my uncle even angrier when I was nearly completely healed the next morning because of my gift.

It was midnight of July 31, 1987 when I finally had had enough.

My uncle 'snuck' into my cupboard under the stairs. I could hear the loud footsteps as he walked down the stairs. I didn't know what to expect because he always slept through the night. I knew something was going to happen and I knew I wouldn't like it one bit.

He opened the door and entered. There was a purely disturbing grin on his face. It was the kind of grin he got when he was about to beat me particularly bad. But there was something else; there was lust shining through those malicious eyes.

I tried to back up against the wall as far as I could but one of his large, meaty hands grabbed my shoulder to hold me still. I looked up with fear written clearly on my face. I was pale and shaking. This was more then a beating.

He punched me in the nose and spat out insults at me. He kicked me and beat me with a belt causing welts to cover my torso and back. My shirt was ripped where the blows struck. Blood was leaking from most of the wounds and my nose was broken. The kicks caused a few broken ribs which in turn caused me to have labored breathing. Tears soon began to leak from my eyes.

But that wasn't the end.

He took his pants off and then ripped my clothes off. He forced me on my stomach which caused me to sob. I didn't know what was going on, but I had an idea and I really hoped I wasn't right.

But I knew I was right when he thrust into me. There was no preparation and no lubrication except for the blood that soon came.

I screamed as soon as he entered me; as soon as he stole everything I had left. I screamed and screamed from the pain and humiliation. I screamed until no sound came out but pitiful whimpers. My throat was raw and hurt but it was nothing compared to the hurt my uncle was causing.

It felt as though I was being ripped in two. It seemed like hours before he finally came with a shudder inside me. Sneering down at me, he pulled his pants back on and left. I was left a sobbing, bloody heap on the floor. If this was what sex feels like, I thought, then I'll never have sex.

I snapped.

I lost everything to that man! My innocence, the only thing of value I had left, was stolen away from me brutally.

I allowed darkness to envelope me and I abruptly passed out.

I awoke the next day nearly completely healed as usual. My broken ribs were mostly healed and though they were cracked, my breathing was much better. I had stopped bleeding so profusely and my nose was no longer broken. I was bloody though and that wouldn't do.

Sneaking out from my cupboard, I went to go see what time it was. Through the window I could see a faint pink line slicing through the horizon. It was about five thirty to six in the morning. That was plenty of time to wash up before the Dursleys woke up.

After the shower while I was on the way to my cupboard it finally sunk in. My uncle raped me last night. It brought more tears to my eyes. I sat there in my cupboard and just cried until no more tears came. All the hatred that I had been harboring over the years was about ready to burst. I needed to do something and I had the perfect plan.

A/N: I didn't really like the story in third person point of view so I rewrote chapter 2 in first person point of view. I also changed some things about it.

Okay, here's a poll.

I'm going to have Harry change his name but the voting won't be on this site so if you want to vote go to adult fan fiction . net just without the spaces. My username there is EmptyInside.

Like it, love it, hate it? Plz review!


	3. One Step Closer

Already I was plotting and planning my revenge. I practiced my gift at every chance I got and by the age nine I could do almost anything. Had I shown how much I knew at school I would have been called a child prodigy. Had I shown what I could do with my gift I would have been called a freak even more so.

I also practiced on physical training. I knew that I needed to have both a strong body and mind. By nine I wouldn't call myself buff in any meaning of the word; I was still thin but I had a lean body and was stronger then I looked and I could fight. I was able to move without making a sound and be somewhere without people noticing.

Of course I had to get the money for books somewhere now didn't I? I became a pickpocket and often snuck out to London to pick the pockets of unsuspecting people. I bought books and only books for they kept me occupied and taught me what I needed to know in order to survive. I grew fast in two years.

And through those two years my uncle never touched me again. I don't know why he never did but I was glad. The beatings came as usual though but as they say, "what does not kill us makes us stronger." I find that to be very true.

But at nine everything went to hell. Well, a more terrible hell then it already was.

My uncle came home drunk while my aunt and cousin were out. Apparently he lost his job so he went to a bar. He beat me terribly and by the end of it my right leg was broken, my left arm was fractured in three places, my jaw and nose were broken, I had three broken ribs, and there were cuts and bruises all over my body. I was lucky he didn't just kill me.

He then pushed me onto the couch and ripped off my clothes. I tried to push him off but it didn't work. He was pulling his pants off with one hand while the other held me down. In fear I flailed around.

"Stop flailing boy! You know you want this," he slurred.

I kept repeating "No!" over and over again but he didn't listen. It was just like last time two years before. But I wasn't going to let him do this to me again. With my unbroken leg I kicked him in the nuts and ran into the kitchen while he was bent over in pain. I grabbed a chef's knife to protect myself. A minute later he stepped into the kitchen without any pants on. I paled.

"Don't you dare come one step closer!" I yelled at him.

As though mocking me he took one step closer towards me. The drunken idiot didn't even seem to register that I had his chef's knife in my hands. I was shaking in fear as he started to walk towards me.

Then he lunged for me. Without meaning to I thrust the knife forward. He was impaled on the knife. His eyes were wide in fright and dull with death. I had to back away quickly so he didn't fall on me.

Looking down at my bloodstained hands, I realized that I enjoyed seeing the light in his eyes vanish. I enjoyed killing him.

But I knew I had to get away. There was no way I was going to jail and being only nine, there was no way anybody would believe it was self defense. Running to my cupboard, I grabbed my most prized books and my clothes. I got dressed before going back to the kitchen and found the floor covered in blood. As best I could I dodged the blood on the floor and made it to the fridge and got some food.

Then I ran out the door.

I ran into the woods so nobody would see my bloody hands. There, I analyzed my feelings about what had occurred. I sat on a large rock and put my worn out book-bag next to it.

I really did enjoy it, I realized. I loved the euphoric feeling of taking somebody's life. It was as though I had reached heaven. Then I realized I wanted to do it again. I wanted to kill somebody again. The very thought of having somebody's blood on my hands and watching the light leave their eyes made me shiver in pleasure.

A sadistic smile graced my lips and I sat there remembering the kill until well after midnight. With a sigh I went to the river I had visited many times before and washed my hands. I was planning on going to London and live on the streets there. There would be plenty of people to pickpocket then, I mused.

I left the woods and walked towards the big city that awaited.

It was dawn when I made it to London and I was exhausted and hungry. I walked into an alley and found shelter in a large cardboard box there. I rummaged through my book-bag until I found some bread and cheese. I made myself a cheese sandwich and ate quietly. Soon people would fill the streets and I could get me a decent lunch.

I sat in my cardboard box and read until people started pouring into the streets. With a sly smirk I packed my stuff, slung my book-bag over my shoulder, and walked into the crowd and blended in. Half an hour later I had ten pounds. Not a very good catch but enough for a few donuts.

I went to a bakery I found down the street. It seemed quite popular and, if you can tell by the prices, had good food. I was eager to get donuts as they were the best thing I had ever tasted before, though I only ever had a piece once.

I bought three jelly filled donuts and sat in a corner. I stayed there even after I finished eating. I sat there reading and listening to the conversations around me. People came and went. It was around three thirty when an unexpected person came in.

I was reading the Lord or the Rings when Aunt Petunia walked in. Her eyes were swollen and red as though she had been crying but she was smiling.

"Why 'Tunia, what's wrong? You've been crying," asked the female cashier on duty.

Aunt Petunia nodded sadly, her smile vanished. "My husband, Vernon, was dead when I came home yesterday. Stabbed in the heart with his pants off. Blood all over the k-kitchen a-and m-my nephew has g-gone m-missing to!" Aunt Petunia sobbed.

The cashier came around, I could see her name was Nancy now, and wrapped her arms around Aunt Petunia and rubbed circles on her back to comfort her.

"You know what? I'll get you something to eat then you best be getting home deary," the cashier, Nancy, said before going and getting a couple donuts.

Since Aunt Petunia came in I had been hiding under the table. It wasn't much protection but I doubted she would bother to look under tables.

About ten minutes later she left and I got back up. I was sore from crouching under the table for ten minutes but that wasn't what I was thinking about at the moment. I was thinking about the panic I must have caused back at Privet Drive.

This was good. I wished I had stayed for the big scene but I had to get away from there. Grinning like an idiot I got back to reading my book.

It was after closing time when they kicked me out but not without something to eat because of my starved appearance. Smiling, I got back to my cardboard box just in time as it started to rain. I scowled as I huddled in the box. Soon the rain would leak in and I would get wet but it was better then nothing. I fell into an uneasy sleep.

A/N: I hope you liked the chapter. Anyway, the poll is still up on the other site.

Like it, love it, hate it? Plz Review!


	4. A New Identity

Over the next few weeks since my escape I stayed at the bakery and made friends with the employees. They often gave me free samples and let me stay when it rained. They taught me and helped me when I didn't understand things. They talked to me about their problems and I helped them. They also hid me from my aunt as this was her favorite bakery and came often when in need of bread and such.

I was ten when a social worker finally saw me. It was like any other day in the bakery. I and my friend Lucy, who was twenty-four, were chatting in French. A strict looking woman came in and I immediately felt her eyes upon me. Looking up I saw her bespectacled eyes narrowed at me. I narrowed mine back and went back to talking to Lucy.

Not five minutes later she came up to me and started to ask me questions.

"Is this your son miss?" the woman asked Lucy.

"Heavens no! He visits here often is all. Such a sweet little boy he is," Lucy said in her natural French accent.

"Well then boy, where is your family?" the woman asked.

I flinched visibly at the word boy. "Dead," was all I said.

"Then you should come with me. You should be in an orphanage young man, not bothering these poor people with your idiotic, childish shenanigans," she said before grabbing my wrist and dragging me out despite both mine and the employees' protests.

"They should know how to take care of you at the London Orphanage," the woman, a social worker I now realized, said briskly.

She dragged me into her car and sped away, taking me to the orphanage. There was nothing I could do. She asked me question after question but I refused to answer. It was ten minutes later when we finally arrived at the orphanage. I hadn't spoken a word since my previous protests against going.

The social worker dragged me out of the car. Then it hit me. My book-bag was still at the bakery! I started to struggle but the woman would have none of it. She abruptly slapped me to stop the struggling and she pulled a shocked and frightened me into the run down looking orphanage.

We were greeted by a large woman with shoulder length curly blonde hair and a fake smile plastered on her face. With disgust I noticed that she wore an dress made for women with a figure. She looked like a large grey ball.

I sneered at the woman and she slapped me as well. I schooled my face but my eyes betrayed my fear. The women sneered down at me.

"Here, mister, you don't disrespect your superiors. Got it? Now what is your name boy?" the large woman snapped.

Thinking quickly, I thought of a new name. The name Harry just wouldn't cut it if you wanted respect; it was far too common a name. I had wanted a new name for a while now but only then did I need it.

"Vince," was all I said.

The both women nodded and the large one led me into the orphanage. All around there were other kids talking amongst themselves and playing. I was led to a room at the end of a long hallway. In the room there were two bunk beds pushed up against opposite walls, each had a threadbare gray blanket and a worn out pillow. A dresser was next to the door. There were three other boys already there.

One boy with dirty blonde hair and large blue eyes looked up at me from the floor and smiled. He looked to be about three or four. There was something about him…

"My name is Ms. Keen and you will treat me with respect young man. You will do as you are told. Here is your room. Introduce yourselves. I've got work to do," Ms. Keen said.

She walked out and I walked in. I walked over and sat on my bottom bunk. The others watched me as though checking to see if I was a threat. I inwardly smirked at this; of course I was a threat, I killed a man for god's sake!

A tall black boy with black hair and brown eyes, who looked to be about sixteen, walked over and held out his hand, "My name is Jalen. And yours is…?" the boy, Jalen, said arrogantly.

I sneered up at him. "None of your business now is it?"

Jalen looked taken back. Apparently nobody had ever spoken to him like that, none the less a nine year old.

"Now you see here, I'm in charge of this place. You'd do well to respect me before you get hurt!" Jalen growled.

I yawned. "Wow, 'bout as impressive as that Keen woman's speech. Keep it up and you might just match it," I drawled.

His face turned red with anger as the rest watched with amusement. This probably didn't happen every day if it even happened at all.

"You watch yourself or you could get in some serious trouble boy!"

I smirked. "And just what are you going to do? Nothing, that's what. There's more to me then meets the eye _boy, _so stay out of my way and you won't get hurt."

He looked as though he was going to say something but instead he just stomped out of the room. I knew he would get me back, or at least he would try to get me back. Now's the time to show them who's really in charge of this place.

"That was awesome!" said some kid.

I scowled up at them. "Now I'm sure you're just dying to introduce yourself to me so go right ahead."

He grinned and held out his hand. "Nathanial Greene."

Nathanial had black hair and green eyes. He wore clothes that were too small for him and his teeth were yellow from neglect. He was short and appeared to be eleven.

"And this," he said pointing to the youngest in the room "is Timmy. He's only four years old. His parents died a few months ago."

Nathanial's hand was still outstretched. I guess I did need friends. I shook his hand. He beamed at me.

"Can he talk," I said, gesturing to Timmy.

"Not that any of us know of."

Timmy had blonde hair and blue eyes. He beamed up at me with those big, shining eyes of his that could make the hardest of men go soft. Timmy walked over to me and sat down next to me on the bed.

"Hello Timmy, my name is Vince," I said.

Timmy giggled. I bent down with a mischievous glint in my eye and then I attacked. I tickled Timmy and sent the young boy into gales of laughter. Soon Nathanial joined in.

Nathanial and I stayed up half the night talking about random things. As it turns out we both love to read. The only difference was that he loved to read fiction while I limited my reading to more useful subjects. Jalen ignored us as he came in for bed. It was after three o'clock before we went to sleep. For the first time I slept a peaceful sleep. It felt so good.

So this was what it was like to have friends other then older women and men at a bakery.

A/N: Yay! Forth chapter up! Hope you liked it. There was a tie in the poll for names so I just picked one I'd never seen used before which would be Vince, which means 'conquering'. Like it, love it, hate it? Plz review!


	5. To Reach The Top

Life at the orphanage was tough. I had to make my way to the top though. I was determined but the rest of the orphanage, except Timmy and Nathanial, were also determined. The older kids were at the top as they were bigger and smarter then the younger kids. They would trick and humiliate the others just to show them whose boss. Well… and eye for an eye.

It was my first full day at that wretched place. I was outside in the back. I was sitting under a tree I believe. Nathanial was nowhere to be found and Timmy was running around chasing after a butterfly. I was absently petting a garter snake I had found earlier that morning when Jalen and his lackeys walked over.

"You see here _Vince_, we don't take kindly of people talking irrespectively towards their superiors," Jalen sneered.

"Then why are you talking that way towards me?" I asked emotionlessly.

Jalen motioned to one of his lackeys, a large boy with dark brown hair and puny green eyes. The boy bent down and picked me up by the front of my shirt and pressed me up against the tree.

"Because, we are your superiors. We are at the top here. You would do best to respect us unless you want to get seriously injured," Jalen said. "Troy, Herald, show him what we mean by that."

The brunette, Troy, and a blonde boy who looked to be Troy's brother, started to punch and kick every part of me they could reach. By the time they were done I was nothing but a mass of bleeding and bruised flesh and clothes. But using my gift I managed to trip Troy, who landed with an 'oof' on his fat face. With a smirk I got up and limped back inside. Once back in the room I shared with Nathanial and Timmy, I managed to mostly heal myself before Nathanial ran in.

I smirked. "Didn't hurt me as much as they thought."

Nathanial grinned. "They can be so stupid sometimes." Then the older boy got serious. "But really, you shouldn't be messing with those three, especially Jalen. The boy is smart, not the smartest, but smart," he said grimly.

"Of course I'll be careful," I muttered sarcastically.

Nathanial went back outside without another word. I slumped onto my bed and stared at the bunk above me.

How could I be so stupid as to pick a fight with them? They were stronger. Of course, that was it. I was much younger but in a contest of knowledge, I'd beat him easy with all the reading I've done. But I needed to train my body.

My eyes widened. Of course! I would train. I needed to protect myself and what better then to practice karate and such? The next day I would go to the library and check out some books on karate.

After washing off the blood and healing a few more bruises with my gift, I made my way down to lunch. I had spent a few more hours contemplating on what I would do to train and now I had the whole thing planned. I would have my physical training five days a week, the other two to rest, and I would read before bed and on weekends. I would practice my gift at every free chance as well. Perfect.

I stepped into the cafeteria and looked around. Finally spotting Nathanial and Timmy, I walked over and sat down in front of the two.

"Hey Vince. I was starting to think you'd never show," Nathanial said through a mouth full of food.

I grimaced as bread crumbs from his sandwich fell out of his mouth while he talked. Timmy just giggled.

"Not eating?" Nathanial asked after swallowing the sandwich.

I shook my head. "Not hungry."

The older boy just nodded and started on the rest of his sandwich. For the rest of lunch I sat there in silence. As soon as lunch was over Nathanial dragged me back to the room with Timmy trailing behind.

That night I had dreams filled with death. There was people running around everywhere in some unknown village, trying to escape me as I slaughtered them all one by one. There was blood everywhere and I enjoyed best of all how the life left there eyes. The smell of death was strong and the feel of blood on my hands made me giddy with excitement. I was just about to kill some blonde woman whose face contorted with terror so prettily, when somebody woke me up.

I sat up with a start, my arms in front of my face defensively. But it was only Timmy. He was shaking and only then did I realize he was crying. Reaching through the dark of the bedroom, and picked him up and placed him next to me.

"Bad dream?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Then you can sleep here tonight," I said, offering him a kind smile.

Timmy smiled back and was soon fast asleep again. Normally I wouldn't be so kind; had anybody else come up to me like that I would have told them to piss off but there was just something about the younger boy that made me want to care for him and to be there for him. It was almost as though the boy was a little brother.

Smiling at the thought of having a little brother, I went back to dreams filled with death, only to be awoken by a woman's loud banging on the door the next morning.

I got up with a yawn. It was Monday, I think, and I was ready to start my training. I started to get up, being careful not to wake Timmy, when I realized it was my birthday. I was ten. Of course, that didn't mean anything to me. Birthdays were never important to me.

With a sigh I got up and got dressed, unaware what the day had in store for me. That day held so many surprises; I'll never forget it.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long but I didn't have time to write it with school and all. This chapter wasn't very exciting or anything but the next one will be better, I promise. I just had to build the story up a little, you know. Like it, love it, hate it? Plz review!


	6. Training

I went outside, ready to start training with my 'gift'. I wanted to first test out what I could do, so finding a tree, I got to work punching and kicking it. My feet and hands were bleeding by the time I finished but I had managed to make a nice dent in the tree. This would probably come from training when I was younger, but I had stopped that training when I was around seven.

Next, I did pushups. They were probably one of the hardest things to do. My face was red after three and I was already sweating. I managed to do five, but barely. My arms felt like rubber and it felt as though I wouldn't be able to life them very high for a while, but I kept on training.

I did curl-ups. They were simple enough but after a while my neck started to hurt. The simple workout didn't seem like it would help much but it would do for now. I managed to do somewhere around thirty or forty. I was sweating, my arms were sore, and my neck hurt. And there was still more training to be done.

After that I jogged. My small ten year-old legs wouldn't be able to do much yet but with time that would change. I ran around the tree, slowly at first but my speed soon progressed. I managed to jog around five times around the tree. I was much to tired to do much else.

I decided to wash up then have breakfast. After washing away the sweat from training I went to have breakfast. Breakfast was the only meal I'd eat; that or lunch. There was hardly anybody else up this early so I didn't have to bother with to many people. Nathanial and Timmy weren't up yet, which was fine as I didn't feel like talking that day.

By the time I finished my small breakfast more people were up, including Nathanial and Timmy. Timmy ate quickly and followed me as I left. I tried to tell him I couldn't hang out right then but he continued to follow. I sighed. It wasn't as though he would tell anybody what he was going see.

There were people at the tree so I had to go elsewhere to practice my 'gift'. I went to the woods out back. Timmy and I walked until we came across a pond.

"Timmy," I whispered. "You mustn't tell anybody what you see here. Okay?"

The small boy nodded and grinned. It caused me to smile to.

I focused on making a small stone float. I was only testing my powers so I wouldn't be doing anything big or amazing. I managed to do so and made it float in front of Timmy. The young boy chased it around and I made it float away from him. Giggling along with Timmy, I made several more stones float. They flew around Timmy as he tried to catch them. I was having so much fun with Timmy that I didn't notice somebody gasp.

I turned to see Nathanial watching me. The stones fell as my attention was diverted from them. I was astounded that Nathanial didn't have fear in his eyes, but amazement and excitement. I cursed myself for not paying attention.

"Vince? How is it you can make those stones fly?" Nathanial asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just can. It's a gift I guess."

Timmy giggled and clapped.

"Do you think I can learn how to do it?" Nathanial asked.

I shrugged again. "I don't know. Try concentrating on making one of those small stones float."

Nathanial tried. I taught him as best I could but nothing happened when he tried. I had managed to do as much as cause the trees to shake. I even made a small sapling snap in two.

"Maybe you're a wizard or something," Nathanial said, grinning.

I shook my head at the stupidity of the comment.

Though he couldn't do it and I could, he didn't seem to be spiteful or jealous or anything like that. He seemed happy, and maybe even proud that he had a friend that could do something like what I did.

"Can you do anything else?" Nathanial asked.

"I can heal myself. I can also talk to snakes," I tell him. "I'm still learning though. I just wish I had someone to teach me."

"That would be awesome but I doubt anybody will be able to do what you can," Nathanial said. "It's so cool."

I smile but then frown. "You don't think it makes me freakish or anything?"

Nathanial looked at me as though I'd grown a second head. "No. I think it's really cool that you can do this kind of stuff. As much as I would like to have your 'gift', I don't think I could handle such a responsibility."

"Responsibility?" I asked, confused. How could this be some sort of responsibility?

"Yeah. You know, like superheroes in comic books and stuff. They use their powers to help people and stuff."

I snort. "What has this world done to deserve saving? If anything it needs to be taught a lesson."

Nathanial looked at me worriedly. "You shouldn't talk like that. You could end up in jail or worse, dead."

I looked at him skeptically. "And how so?"

"You might end up shooting up a mall or something or becoming a serial killer. You should save people, no matter what they've done to you."

I shake my head. "I've already killed once. Why would it matter if I killed again?"

Nathanial looked shocked and hurt. "Y-you've killed? Who? Why? I'm sure there was a good reason for it!"

I smile a bit sadistically, a frightening thing to see on a ten year-olds face. "I killed my uncle. He was trying to ra- I mean he was trying to do something bad to me. He was drunk. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and he lunged at me. I held the knife out and he was impaled on it. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed seeing the light leave his eyes and the blood that covered him and the floor. The feel of blood between my fingers was pure bliss." I sighed in pleasure.

Nathanial looked at my as though he was afraid I would stab him at any given second.

"You can go you know. I know now you won't want to be friends with a murderer and freak like me. Just don't tell anyone about my 'gift'," I say, looking sadly into the pond.

"Don't say that. I'll stay with you no matter what," Nathanial said, putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze.

I smile. Maybe it won't be so bad here. I smile at Timmy and Nathanial once more before returning to practice. I planned to one day be the best, and I had to work for that.

**A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to update but I was busy and stressed. Like it, love it, hate it? Cookies for those who review! Cow pies for flamers!**


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